


The Colour of Your Optics

by pipermca



Series: Sparkr Stories [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Slow Burn, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-21 02:33:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12447846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipermca/pseuds/pipermca
Summary: Sunstreaker was (mostly) happy with his routine: painting, reading, putting up with his brother. But then he discovers that the mech he's had a crush on for ages might be available... And he might even be interested back.





	1. Taking That Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makes references to things that happened in [Swipe Right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088926/chapters/27400416), but also works as a stand-alone story.

The door chimed as Sunstreaker entered the store. He tasted the air, drawing in the scent of oil paints and acetone, and felt his spark settle. Out of all the places he frequented in Iacon, Sunstreaker felt most at home here. There was the comforting smell, of course. But there was also the gentle light filtering through the shop’s window, the neatly hung arrays of brushes, the stacks of stretched canvas, the selection of pencils, and the small display of easels. But his most favourite thing in the store was...

“Hey, Sunstreaker! How’s my favourite customer?”

The corners of Sunstreaker’s mouth lifted when he saw the shopkeeper leaning on the counter, smiling at Sunstreaker with an open and friendly expression. “Hi, Bluestreak. I’m good. I thought I’d stop by to see if my order was ready.”

The red and silver Praxian tipped his door wings forward and nodded. “You’re a mind reader - I just got the last of it together this morning. But I’m glad you stopped in - I have a sample of that special order colour you requested. I want you to take a look and see if it’s what you wanted. Let me run to the back and I’ll grab that for you first. Just a klik!”

Sunstreaker waited until Bluestreak emerged with a small pot of paint and a sample tile. Bluestreak shook the pot of paint, then opened it and handed Sunstreaker the tile and a brush. “Here, play with that while I get the rest of your order,” he said, before disappearing into the back room again.

Dipping a brush into the paint, Sunstreaker swept a smear of the colour onto the tile. He examined it closely, venting on it lightly to dry out the surface more quickly. When he stepped into the natural light coming in through the store window and examined the paint on the tile, his ventilations stalled for a moment.

“So? What do you think?” Bluestreak set a stack of pails on the counter.

Sunstreaker looked up at Bluestreak, not able to keep a delighted flash from his optics. “This is just perfect. It’s exactly what I was looking for,” he said. He tilted the tile in the light, marvelling at the way the black shimmered into the deepest purples and blues. “What did you use to create the opalescence? Chromium?”

Showing a bit of dentae in his smile, Bluestreak tilted his helm saucily to the side. “Surely you don’t expect me to give away my trade secrets, now? Sorry... Not even for my favourite customer.”

Shrugging, Sunstreaker said, “It was worth a shot.” He walked back to the counter. “Like I said, it’s perfect. I’ll take four liters.”

Bluestreak tapped his order screen, biting his lower lip as he concentrated. “All right, I’ve got that in here now. I should have that ready for you on... Um, is the cycle after next good?” 

Sunstreaker nodded. “I’ll come by to get it then.” He set a hand on the pails on the counter. “How much do I owe you for this order, again?”

* * *

After closing the flat door behind him, Sunstreaker piled the pails on the nearby table. He scanned the note his brother had left for him.

_Going out tonight with Blaster. I left some fuel in the warmer for you. Don’t wait up. – Sides_

Exventing, Sunstreaker carried the pails into his room and set them near his work gear. He had a large mural job to start in the morning, and this was the last of the supplies he needed. After doing a quick mental inventory of the materials he already had on site, Sunstreaker nodded to himself. That should be everything.

Grabbing his sketch tablet, Sunsteaker returned to the living area and retrieved the energon from the warmer. He took a sip and exvented again, more gently this time. He mused that his brother may be brash and impulsive, but he could also be really thoughtful... When he thought to be, that is.

Settling down in his chair, Sunstreaker began sketching. As his stylus danced over the surface of the tablet, he felt the stress from his day begin to evaporate. He rolled his shoulders, setting aside the anxiety he’d felt when he dropped his equipment off at the site for tomorrow’s job. 

The client he’d been dealing with hadn’t been there; instead, the mech’s partner had let him in and showed him where to put his gear. Sunstreaker tried to be friendly – he really had – but the mech kept asking him inane questions about the weather and how the city’s rocket ball team was doing, and Sunstreaker simply did not know how to respond to his questions. The weather was obvious: just look outside. No need to talk about the overcast skies. And the only things that Sunstreaker knew about rocket ball was what Sideswipe had told him. He’d wished that he had actually paid attention.

So Sunstreaker had responded to the mech mostly with grunts and shrugs, unable to come up with any better responses. He hoped that wouldn’t reflect on the work he was going to do; after all, he was there to paint, not to engage in pointless conversation.

Sunstreaker knew he wasn’t Cybertron’s best conversationalist. He did fine when there was a point to the conversation: a goal or a reason for talking to a mech he didn’t know well. For example, he’d interceded on Sideswipe’s behalf when his brother fragged up his first date with Blaster, and convinced the mech to give Sides another chance. Sunstreaker was happy that he’d done that, since Blaster ended up being the single best thing to happen to Sideswipe in ages. But the conversation he’d had with Blaster had a goal. It wasn’t pointless blather about inconsequential things.

He also handled speaking to clients and negotiating details and prices just fine, although it wasn’t his favourite thing to do. As it was, he handled as much as he could by messaging, only talking to customers in person when absolutely necessary.

There were only a few mechs he truly felt comfortable speaking to without having a goal for the conversation... Starting with Sideswipe, of course. Even when his brother was being obnoxious, Sunstreaker knew that he’d listen to what he had to say. The teasing and banter back and forth actually made Sunstreaker feel more centered: it was predictable and familiar. 

As for other mechs that Sunstreaker liked to be around... He lifted his hand and looked at the sketch he’d been working on. A chevroned Praxian gazed out from his tablet, his lower lip caught between his dentae.

* * *

Bluestreak was resting his elbows on the counter. His attention was focused on his comm pad, where he brushed a digit over the screen, from right to left, repeatedly. He looked up when he heard the door chime and smiled. “Hey, Sunstreaker! Are you just here for your custom colour?” When Sunstreaker nodded, Bluestreak put his comm pad on the counter and said, “Great! Let me grab it for you.”

Sunstreaker watched the Praxian vanish into the back room, then glanced down. On Bluestreak’s comm pad, he saw a familiar-looking app. 

Turning his helm slightly, Sunstreaker frowned down at the screen, and his optics widened. Sure enough, it was the app he thought it was. It was no wonder he’d recognized it, even upside down: Sideswipe had flashed it at him enough times over the past vorn or so, back when he was trawling for dates. 

Sunstreaker looked up at the door of the back room, but there was no sign of Bluestreak. He peered back down at the comm pad. He was sure that Bluestreak was seeing someone; hadn’t he mentioned something about a date a while back? But if Bluestreak was looking at mechs on Sparkr, then… Maybe...

Hearing a thump, Sunstreaker jerked his optics away from the comm pad. He attempted to school his expression into something neutral, but he was afraid he was failing badly. Bluestreak emerged from the back room while looking down at a data pad, so Sunstreaker turned suddenly and walked over to the display of brushes, grabbing one at random. 

“All right, here you go. Four liters of your custom colour,” he heard Bluestreak say.

Sunstreaker pulled a full vent cycle and turned back to the counter. He placed the brush he’d grabbed next to the four paint pots that Bluestreak had brought from the back room. “Thanks, Bluestreak. I’ll take this brush, too.”

Bluestreak punched the order into his register, then frowned at the brush. “Didn’t you just buy a mop brush a few deca-cycles ago?”

Oh. Right. He had. Of course Bluestreak would remember that. “Uh, yeah. It started to lose some bristles,” Sunstreaker said, thinking quickly.

Tilting his helm, Bluestreak looked Sunstreaker with deep blue optics. “Well, that’s slag. It shouldn’t be losing bristles yet. If you bring it back in, I can give you a refund.” 

Shaking his helm, Sunstreaker said, “No, I was sort of... um, abusing it. I’ll just buy a new one. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” His original brush really was fine, and he cursed at himself. He couldn’t talk his way out of things like this as fast as Sideswipe could. Why couldn’t he just have said he simply wanted a second brush?

“If you say so.” Bluestreak finished punching the order into the register. He flicked his door wings once, then looked back up at Sunstreaker. “But I’m going to give you this brush for free. When you get a chance, bring back the bad one so I can take the issue up with the manufacturer.”

Tearing his gaze away from those cerulean optics, Sunstreaker dipped his helm slightly. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind paying. It’s just a brush.” 

When Sunstreaker looked back up, Bluestreak was giving him one of the easy smiles that made Sunstreaker weak in the knees. “No, I don’t have to. But I do want to keep my favourite customer happy.”

* * *

“Sunny, I’m hooome!” 

Sideswipe kicked the door to their flat shut and tensed for the inevitable grumble from Sunstreaker not to slam the door. When nothing came, Sideswipe looked around to make sure that his brother actually was home.

Sunstreaker was sitting in his chair, peering at his comm pad. He tapped and swiped at irregular intervals, totally ignoring his brother.

“Hey. Sunny. I said I’m home.” Sideswipe nudged Sunstreaker’s chair.

“I heard you,” Sunstreaker said without looking up. “I thought you were going out with Blaster again tonight.”

“Nah, he got called into his other job. Have I told you that Blaster’s a substitute announcer for the Turbofoxes?” Sideswipe wandered into the kitchen area and dispensed some energon for himself. “Did you want some fuel?” he called.

“No, thanks. And yes, you’ve told me six times.” Sunstreaker still hadn’t looked up from his comm pad.

Taking a seat in his usual spot on the couch, Sideswipe knocked back half of the fuel he’d poured. “So was **this** the sixth time, or is it now seven times I’ve told you?”

Sunstreaker finally lifted his optics from his pad to look at his brother. “This was the sixth time.”

“Cool. I’m glad someone’s keeping track.” He turned on the small entertainment unit and added, “You don’t mind if I watch the game, right? Blaster’s doing the play-by-play tonight.”

Shrugging, Sunstreaker said, “That’s fine. Just keep the volume down to tolerable levels.”

“Great!” Sideswipe flipped to the channel that the game would be on, and nudged the volume up slightly until he saw Sunstreaker’s optics glare over at him. Then he backed it down a notch until Sunstreaker looked back down at his comm pad. There, the perfect volume.

It wasn’t actually that great of a game. The Turbofoxes weren’t Sideswipe’s team, and they were playing the Altihex Thrusters. The game was so mismatched that by the first intermission, Sideswipe thought that the Turbofoxes could randomly drive in circles for the next two periods and still win. Still, Blaster was making the game sound way more interesting than it actually was. Sprawled on the couch, Sideswipe smiled as he listened to his lover’s voice flow from the speakers. Blaster could read a comm number listing and make it sound exciting.

During the second intermission, Sideswipe stretched and got up to return his empty cube to the kitchen. He paused by Sunstreaker’s chair on his way back into the room. His brother’s attention was still held by whatever he was doing on his comm pad.

“So what are you doing on that thing?” Sideswipe asked, gesturing at the comm pad. When Sunstreaker frowned up at him, he added, “I’ve never seen you spend this much time on your pad. Did you finally download a game for it?”

“No.” Sunstreaker kept his frame angled so that Sideswipe couldn’t see the screen. “I’m just trying to figure something out.”

With a shrug, Sideswipe turned to go back to the couch. There was no sense in trying to pry; that would just made Sunstreaker angry. If Sunstreaker wanted help he would – 

“Sides... Can you help me with this app?” Sunstreaker asked quietly before Sideswipe could take more than two steps.

Huh. That was unexpected. Sideswipe wheeled around and returned to stand by the arm of his brother’s chair. “Sure! What app are you…” He paused when he saw the screen of Sunstreaker’s comm pad, and his optics widened. This was **really** unexpected.

Sunstreaker glared up at him. “Look, I just need help figuring this out.”

Holding up his hands, Sideswipe smiled in what he hoped was a mollifying way. “No problem, Sunny. I’m just surprised to see you wanting to try out Sparkr. It didn’t seem like it would be your scene, but… Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got so far.”

Sunstreaker held his comm pad out so that Sideswipe could reach the screen. “Just show me how this works, ok?”

“Right.” Sideswipe tapped on the screen a few times to get to Sunstreaker’s profile. “You’ve got a profile set up. Good pic, by the way,” he said with a grin. When Sunstreaker only glowered back, he looked back down and tapped again. “All right, so this screen shows mechs in the area that match what you’re looking for… As each profile comes up, you just swipe right to say that you’re interesting in chatting with them, and swipe left if you’re not. If they also swipe right on your profile, the app will tell you that you’ve got a match, and lets you chat. That’s basically it.”

Sideswipe watched as Sunstreaker quickly swiped left past several profiles. Finally he stopped and gestured at the screen impatiently. “I got that. I figured all that out myself. But how do you find a mech’s profile?”

“You just tap on their picture to read more.” Sideswipe thought that was pretty obvious, but he knew better than to say that out loud.

“No, I mean a specific profile,” Sunstreaker said, irritation edging into his voice.

Sideswipe frowned. “Like, someone you swiped right on before?” When Sunstreaker glared up at him, he held up his hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

Exventing sharply, Sunstreaker said, “If you know a mech is on Sparkr, how do you find their profile?”

Oh. Ooooh. 

Sideswipe crouched next to Sunstreaker’s chair. “Sunny, this app doesn’t work that way. This is just for finding mechs in the area. It only shows you mechs based on your location, stuff you have in your profile, stuff they have in theirs, what both of you said you’re looking for… That’s it. It’s pretty random. And there’s no way to search for a specific mech.”

Sunstreaker stared at his comm pad for a moment, then closed the app and threw the pad onto the table next to his chair. “Well, that was a complete waste of time, then,” he muttered. He glared straight ahead at the entertainment unit. “Your game’s back on.”

Sideswipe didn’t look away from his brother’s face. “Who is it?” he asked quietly.

Sunstreaker’s optics flicked towards Sideswipe before focusing back on the game. “You don’t know him.” When Sideswipe continued looking at him, Sunstreaker exvented and added, “His designation’s Bluestreak.”

The designation sounded familiar. Sideswipe thought for a klik and then said, “Is… Is that the mech who owns the art store you go to?”

Surprise flashed across his brother’s face plates. “Yes.” Another glance his way. “I’m surprised you remember.”

Sideswipe smiled. “Hey, I listen to you. Sometimes.” He set his elbows on the arm of the chair and rested his helm on a hand. “Sunny, why don’t you just talk to him?”

He was expecting the glare this time. “Right,” Sunstreaker huffed, his tone thick with sarcasm. “Because I’m so great at making small talk. I’m such a great conversationalist.” 

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Sideswipe said. “Just ask if he wants to go for dinner or drinks or something.” When his brother huffed again, Sideswipe added, “Just be honest with him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Sunstreaker groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You had to ask that, didn’t you?” he said, his voice muffled.

“Sunny, I’m serious. Whatever horrible worst case scenario you’re imagining… If that happens, then maybe he isn’t someone you wanted to be with in the first place.” Before Sunstreaker could say anything in response, Sideswipe continued. “I’m not saying that he would do… whatever you’re thinking. In fact… I’ll bet that if he’s interested in you at all, you should start thinking best case scenarios.”

Sunstreaker continued to sit with his face in his hands, and grunted. “Right.”

Tilting his helm to the side, Sideswipe said, “Look, you already talk to him all the time, right? Just talk to him like you normally do.” 

Lowering his hands but still looking down at his lap, Sunstreaker said, “I… I’ve tried. I can talk to him about work stuff with no problem. But as soon as I try to bring up something personal, my processor gets all tangled up.” He huffed and added, “It makes me sound like an idiot, so I stopped trying.”

“You don’t have to tell him your life story,” Sideswipe said. “Just pick something easy. Like… Ask him stuff about himself first.”

“I’m not like you, Sides,” Sunstreaker said, finally looking up. His optics were dim as he looked at Sideswipe. “You can talk to anyone, about anything. I’ve watched you. It’s easy for you.” He stared dully at the comm pad. “Sometimes… I wish I was a little more like you, that way.”

Leaning over to give Sunstreaker an awkward one-armed hug, Sideswipe smiled. “I never thought that my big, strong, handsome, talented brother would ever admit to being jealous of me.” When Sunstreaker took a deep vent cycle at his words, Sideswipe said, “Just tell him you’re interested in dinner. Tell him you want to get to know him better. Then, if that goes well… Tell him what you’re thinking. I’ll bet it’ll go better than you think.”

* * *

Bluestreak was helping another customer when Sunstreaker came in the door. The Praxian held up a digit in a “just a klik” gesture, so Sunstreaker nodded and wandered over to the brush display.

He picked up a brush, and ran a digit over the bristles. Just ask him out to dinner. Sideswipe had made it sound so simple. Well… Of course he’d made it sound simple. It was easy for him, after going out with so many mechs. He’d had so much practice. Practice that Sunstreaker simply hadn’t had.

Practice makes perfect.

So Sunstreaker had run through his script over and over while finishing up his mural. He tried out different ways of bringing up the subject, different inflections in his tone, even different facial expressions. He ran through the words again and again, even while cleaning up the job site and putting his gear back into storage. He had his script perfected and memorized. Now he just had to deliver it.

“Now, what can I do for my favourite customer?”

Optics wide, Sunstreaker whirled to face Bluestreak. The red and silver mech leaned against the wall near the display, his arms crossed, a calm smile on his lips. 

All of Sunstreaker’s carefully practiced words evaporated.

“Sunstreaker?” Bluestreak’s smile faded to be replaced by a frown of concern when Sunstreaker continued to stare at him. He stood up straight and glanced down at the brush in the Kaonite’s hand. “You’ve been staring at that brush for almost five kliks.” His cerulean optics met Sunstreaker’s again. “Are you all right?”

The brush. _Just be honest with him_ , Sideswipe had said. 

“I have to pay you for the mop brush,” Sunstreaker said.

Bluestreak blinked. “What? No, I told you it was on me. You said it was –“

Sunstreaker looked back down at the brush in his hand. “I lied. There wasn’t anything wrong with my brush.” The words fell out of him in a rush. “I… When I came to pick up the custom colour… I wasn’t trying to spy on you, but... You left your comm pad on the counter. I saw you were on Sparkr. I swear I didn’t mean to look, it just happened! And then when you came out of the back room I was afraid that you’d seen me looking at your pad, so I grabbed a brush and... And then I panicked. I lied.” Exventing, he put the brush back onto the display, carefully not looking at Bluestreak. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t expecting the light chuckle he heard. “Oh, is that all? You had me worried there.” Sunstreaker looked up and saw that the friendly smile was back on Bluestreak’s face. The Praxian shook his helm. “Don’t worry about it. You spend enough here that I can spot you a brush once in a while. No harm done, but thanks for telling me.”

Sunstreaker stared at Bluestreak. Relief warred with anxiety inside of him. None of that was what he’d meant to say. Now he’d admitted to looking at his comm pad – _prying!_ – and making up a lame story about the brush – _lying!_ – and Bluestreak didn’t seem mad. Did he really not care? But asking him out now would just seem awful, wouldn’t it? _Hey, sorry I was spying on you, did you want to go out?_

“Hey. I said it was all right.” Bluestreak was still looking at him. Oh, Primus… Sunstreaker realized that he’d been standing there staring at the Praxian for a whole klik. Bluestreak nibbled on his lower lip for a moment as if considering something, and then took a step forward. “Was there something else?”

_Yes. I want to talk to you about something other than paint and brushes. I want to find out what you like to do for fun. I want to tell you about the colour of your optics. I want to touch you._

That look of concern and confusion flashed across Bluestreak’s face again.

_Be honest with him._

“Did you want to go for dinner with me?” Sunstreaker blurted. 

Ughgh. That wasn’t how he was supposed to say it.

But the shadow faded from Bluestreak’s face, replaced by a look of surprise. His door wings flicked once. Then he smiled again, flashing a bit of dentae. “Sure. I’d love to. Does tomorrow work for you?”

“Yes?” Sunstreaker nodded. He said yes. He said yes! “Yes!” He knew he was smiling. Hopefully he didn’t look like an idiot. “Um… Where did you want to go?”

Bluestreak took another step forward. He was standing so close. “There’s a nice diner just down the street. I close up tomorrow at six. Did you want to meet me here and we can walk over together?”

Sunstreaker could still feel the smile plastered across his face, but he didn’t care. “That would be… Perfect.”

* * *

Sideswipe was exhausted. He’d agreed to a double shift to cover for a co-worker, which he never would have done if he’d remembered that the Senate was sitting today. He closed the door to the apartment and turned. He debated whether he should just fall into his berth without refueling, or get some fuel and then drift off into recharge on the couch.

Yellow filled his vision, and he stepped back against the door with a squawk. He found himself engulfed in a hug. “Uh… Sunny? You ok?”

“Thank you,” Sunstreaker said into his brother’s shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around Sunstreaker to return the hug, Sideswipe said, “You’re welcome.” He patted the yellow mech on the back. “Um… For what?”

Sunstreaker finally let go and stepped back. Sideswipe widened his optics when he saw that Sunstreaker was smiling from audial to audial. “Thank you for your advice.” Ducking his helm, Sunstreaker added, “He said yes.”

“Oh!” Sideswipe suddenly put everything together, and grinned. “That’s great! See, I told you.” He stepped into the kitchen area; perhaps some fuel before recharging was a good idea after all. “So where are you going? And when?”

Sunstreaker followed Sideswipe into the kitchen. “There’s a diner near his store, so we’re going to go there tomorrow night.” Suddenly, Sunstreaker paused, and a look of panic crossed his face. “Oh, no,” he muttered.

“What’s up?”

“Tomorrow!” Sunstreaker looked down at himself, then wheeled around towards his room. “I wonder if Brushtip has room for a detailing appointment tomorrow morning.”

“You look fine, Sunny!” Sideswipe called after his brother, but he knew he wouldn’t listen.


	2. Getting Acquainted

Sunstreaker leaned his helm on his hand, listening to Bluestreak talk. A tiny smile tipped the corners of his lips upwards. This was perfect. Simply perfect. It felt just like their usual interactions in Bluestreak’s shop, only now they were talking about themselves.

Or rather, Bluestreak was talking about himself, but that was fine with Sunstreaker.

Bluestreak enjoyed racing, which wasn’t a surprise based on his alt mode. When he found out that Sunstreaker also liked to take a run on the track every once in a while, they decided they should arrange to do that together on another day. He also really liked terrible movies, and boasted about his huge collection of low-budget monster and horror vids. “I think my favourite ones are when the actors look embarrassed to have their designations associated with the film. When the characters are wincing because their dialogue is so bad, you know that’s going to be a horribly awesome vid,” he said with a laugh. He recommended one particularly awful movie called _The Maniac Mechs of Montoro_. “I’ll have to invite you over to watch that one some time.”

So that was two more dates together already planned. Sunstreaker was giddy. Hoping that he wasn’t staring too obviously at Bluestreak, he dropped his optics and sipped at his energon.

“But enough about me,” said Bluestreak suddenly, leaning forward on the table and spreading his door wings wide. “Tell me more about yourself. I know you paint murals and have a brother, but beyond that I don’t know too much about you.”

Sunstreaker just barely avoided choking on his energon. “Uh.” He looked down at the table and wracked his brain for something interesting he could tell Bluestreak. He painted. He went home and read. Then he painted some more. He suddenly realized how awfully dull his life really was. Prior to today, it suited him just fine. But now... He knew it would make him seem boring.

Bluestreak tilted his helm farther and farther to the side, slowly lowering it close to the table’s surface, trying to catch Sunstreaker’s optics. When the yellow mech finally looked up, Bluestreak sat up and smiled gently. “Do you only paint murals?” he prompted.

Sunstreaker shook his helm. “Um. No.” He finished off his energon. “I do smaller works, too.” When he saw Bluestreak was still looking at him expectantly, he added, “Sometimes I enter them in art shows.”

“Art shows?” Bluestreak’s optics brightened. “Which shows? Maybe I’ve seen some of your other work. I used to volunteer for some of them before I got too busy with my shop.”

Shrugging, Sunstreaker said, “I mostly only enter when I get an invitation. I think the next one I have coming up is Art in the Dark.”

“Oh, I just love Art in the Dark !” Bluestreak exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “It’s such a cool and eclectic mix of works. It’s coming up in a few deca-cycles, right?” At Sunstreaker’s nod, he said, “Let’s go together. I’d love to see what you entered.”

Another planned outing together. Sunstreaker realized his spark was thrumming hard in its casing. He also realized that talking to Bluestreak about himself was a lot easier than he thought it would be. “I’d like that,” he said, turning one corner of his mouth up in a shy smile. He glanced back down and fidgeted with his empty energon cube.

“And hey, didn’t you paint the mural on the side of the residential tower a few blocks that way?” Bluestreak pointed out the diner window. “The one with the aerial view of Iacon?” When Sunstreaker nodded, he said, “I see that mural all the time and it fascinates me. Did you get a flyer to send you an image capture?”

“No, it’s the view from the high park on that building.” At Bluestreak’s quizzical look, Sunstreaker added, “I just went up, took the image capture myself, and then painted the mural based on the capture.”

“Ooh! That’s neat. That wouldn’t have occurred to me. I’ve never been up to a high park,” Bluestreak said. He shrugged. “I’ve meant to, but never got around to it. It always seemed a little awkward, like you should know someone in the building to go up if you didn’t have an aerial alt mode.” 

Surprised, Sunstreaker asked, “You’ve really never been to a high park?” Bluestreak shook his helm. Before Sunstreaker had a chance to talk himself out of it, he said, “Let’s go there. Right now. If we leave soon we should be able to catch the sunset.”

A deca-cycle ago, Sunstreaker would never have made that suggestion. A deca-cycle ago, Sunstreaker wouldn’t have dreamed he’d be driving to the high park alongside the mech he’d had a crush on for vorn. A deca-cycle ago, Sunstreaker would have simply waited for someone to ask him out, and just accepted it if it never happened. He’d been on dates before, but he was never the one to make the first move. This was all new territory for him. 

He was terrified. He was thrilled. 

Sunstreaker silently reminded himself to thank Sideswipe again when he got home, if he managed to make it back home without passing out from sheer delight.

The high parks were originally built as landing areas for the flying mechs who lived in the residential towers. Eventually, other mechs decided that the view from the top floors of the towers was too good for just one type of alt mode, and developers listened. Now, almost every residential tower had a roof that was part landing zone, part leisure park.

Bluestreak made an awed sound as they emerged from the lift. He ran to the edge of the park and leaned on the railing. He looked down, and his door wings flared wide. He quickly looked up again and out over the city. “This is amazing,” he said when Sunstreaker reached his side. “I must have been crazy to never come up here. Maybe I was worried about the height? Which, admittedly, is a little scary. But the view totally makes it worth it.”

Sunstreaker agreed that the view was stunning, with the setting sun shining through the towers and casting a red glow across the cityscape. But he could only look at the Praxian next to him. 

Bluestreak leaned on the rail, staring at the towers around them. The radiant light from the sun cast his handsome features in stark relief, and Sunstreaker quickly took an image capture. He wanted to remember the intent look on Bluestreak’s face plates forever.

They stood there in silence for a klik, watching the sun dip towards the horizon. Bluestreak worried his lower lip with his dentae for a moment, and then said, “I have a question. And however you want to answer it is fine with me.” 

Trying not to tense up, Sunstreaker said, “Ok.”

Bluestreak turned towards the yellow mech and leaned an elbow on the railing. “Going for dinner tonight. Was this just something between friends... Or was this a date?”

Right. Sunstreaker had just asked him to dinner. Friends go to dinner. Dates also go to dinner. He knew it was a fair question, but... Did Bluestreak want it to be a date?

_Be honest with him._

“It was...” Sunstreaker realized his vocalizer was filled with static, so he reset it and tried again. “I would like it to be a date. If that’s ok with you.”

The wide, easy smile spread across Bluestreak’s face, and his door wings tipped upwards. “That’s actually the answer I was hoping for when I accepted the invitation,” he said. 

Sunstreaker released the air he hadn’t realized he was holding in his ventilation system. “Good!” he exclaimed with a relieved laugh. “Because that’s what I intended when I asked you out.” 

Primus, he had actually asked someone out.

“Now I have another question,” Bluestreak said, his expression serious again. He flicked his door wings once, and then took a step towards Sunstreaker. 

“Ok,” Sunstreaker said dumbly, his optics fixed on Bluestreak’s. 

Bluestreak’s cobalt optics seemed to look straight into his spark. “Since this is a date… Can I kiss you?” the Praxian asked quietly.

Sunstreaker’s engine stalled. “Y-yes?” he said as he recovered.

Bluestreak smiled and stepped even closer to Sunstreaker. “Good... Another answer I was hoping for,” he said. Reaching out, he gently placed his hand on the side of Sunstreaker’s helm, and leaned forward to brush their lips together. 

It was only much later that Sunstreaker realized they both completely missed seeing the sun slip below the horizon.

* * *

The shadows of the art district at night were banished by lanterns and lighted sculptures, and the place was teeming with mechs. Some walked around in small groups holding cubes of high-grade, admiring the works of art. Others travelled in large, rambunctious groups, laughing as they played with the interactive displays. 

Sunstreaker hated crowds, and would have already made his way home if not for Bluestreak. The red and silver mech flitted from display to display, pulling Sunstreaker along by the hand.

Simply having the chance to walk around holding Bluestreak’s hand was reason enough for Sunstreaker to stay.

Bluestreak oohed as they walked under the huge statue of a mech comprised solely of mirrors, and he giggled in delight walking through a vaporous cloud that made a chiming sound in their wake. Pulling Sunstreaker onto a large pad in the middle of a square, he skipped along and laughed as their pedes lit the ground beneath them.

“I just love these interactive displays,” he said, stepping close enough to Sunstreaker to plant a quick kiss on the side of his helm. “But your work is probably with the static displays, right? Let’s go there next.”

“Sure. It’s just a street over,” Sunstreaker said, leading Bluestreak that way.

The street was lined with temporary walls to hold the paintings and drawings that were hung for display. Sunstreaker’s piece was halfway down the street. He noticed that there was a small crowd looking at the paintings he’d hung earlier in the day.

Bluestreak stood back to take in the whole work at once, then slowly walked down past Sunstreaker’s paintings, looking at each one in turn. Sunstreaker stood back and watched the red and silver mech pause at the middle canvas, then walk past the rest of the paintings. Bluestreak’s door wings gave a little flick as he paused at each painting. 

Sunstreaker made note of how high Bluestreak was holding his wings, and exactly how they moved when he flicked them. They were such elegant things. Sunstreaker ached to touch them, except he knew they were extremely sensitive. Bluestreak probably wouldn’t appreciate being handled that way. 

_Not yet, anyway_ , Sunstreaker’s processor whispered at him. He shuddered, and took a long vent to calm himself.

When Bluestreak finished looking at each painting, he walked back to Sunstreaker. “So I saw in the program that you titled this _Antagonism and Affinity_.” He took Sunstreaker’s hand in his, looking at the yellow mech. “Tell me about it.”

The work consisted of nine canvases, arranged in a line. From the right side, four of the paintings depicted an orange ground alt-mode racing left, then transforming into root mode and skidding to a stop in the middle painting. From the left side, another four paintings showed a blue aerial alt-mode flying right, transforming and skidding to a stop opposite the grounder in the middle painting. The middle painting showed them grasping forearms like good friends.

Sunstreaker gathered his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “I was tired of all the slag thrown back and forth between grounders and flyers. You know, the usual: grounders are slow and dirty, while flyers are arrogant and don’t care about anyone but themselves. Sometimes it’s friendly, but it gets irritating and predictable, and it can have a really mean edge to it. It’s just stereotypes, and I was sick of it... From both sides.

“So I wanted to show that we’re really not that different, and given the chance, we can work well together. So the two mechs are racing towards each other as if to collide or fight, but at the last second they set aside their differences and welcome each other as friends and equals.” 

Sunstreaker jumped when he heard a smattering of applause. Looking around, he saw the small crowd of mechs clapping and smiling at him. One of them stepped forward and said, “This is a wonderful example of sequential art; you don’t see much of it at a festival like this. Thank you for telling us about it.”

Another gestured broadly at the canvases and said, “I love the sense of motion you gave the piece! This is really quite exemplary work.”

“Uh... Thanks,” Sunstreaker muttered, casting his optics towards the ground. A few other mechs also came up to praise his work. He nodded to acknowledge their words, but his face plates felt hot.

He looked at Bluestreak when the Praxian gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m getting the vibe that you’ve had enough of the crowds. Am I right?” Bluestreak asked quietly. When Sunstreaker gave a thankful nod, Bluestreak added, “All right. Let’s get out of here.”

As they exited the festival area, Sunstreaker felt the tension slowly fade from his frame. Bluestreak gave Sunstreaker’s hand another squeeze. “That really was a neat piece. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone do anything like that before... Not for a festival like Art in the Dark, anyway.” He gave Sunstreaker a smile and said, “I’d love to see any other smaller works you’ve done, sometime.”

Looking into Bluestreak’s cheerful blue optics, Sunstreaker realized he didn’t want the evening to end so soon. He made a snap decision and took a deep vent. “We’re not too far from my apartment. Did... you want to come up and see some of the things I’m working on?”

Bluestreak’s smile widened. “I’d love to!”

“Ah...” Sunstreaker’s engine coughed as he suddenly remember that Sideswipe was supposed to be home tonight. “Let me make sure my brother’s not... uh... doing anything.” 

As Bluestreak laughed, Sunstreaker quickly pinged his brother’s comm. ::Sideswipe! Are you home, and if so, are you decent?:: 

::I’m always decent. What’s up?::

Sunstreaker shook his helm slightly. ::Sure you are. I’m bringing someone up for a few kliks to look at my paintings. ...It’s Bluestreak.::

There was a pause before Sideswipe responded. ::Understood. I shall be on my best behaviour.::

::Thanks, Sides.::

Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak. “The coast is clear, and we shouldn’t be walking into any surprises.”

The Praxian laughed again. “Ah, brothers. I’m well acquainted with the trials and tribulations they bring into our lives.” Sunstreaker was about to ask about Bluestreak’s brother – he had only mentioned he had one a few times, and never with any detail – but Bluestreak continued on and changed the subject. “Hey, while I’m thinking of it... What did you use that custom colour on? That opalescent black?”

Frowning, Sunstreaker said, “I can’t tell you.” At Bluestreak’s astonished exclamation, he said, “No, really, I can’t. It’s for an upcoming project, but the contract had some very strict non-disclosure clauses in it. I can tell you it’s for a mural, but until the project is officially announced I can’t say anything else.” He gestured with his free hand. “I think they want to do some big marketing campaign. But as soon as I get the clear, I’ll let you know.”

“A mural, hmm?” Bluestreak nibbled at his lower lip for a moment as he thought. “So, will you go to the unveiling? And if so...” He looked at Sunstreaker slyly. “Can I come?”

The yellow mech’s mouth twisted. “I usually don’t go to unveilings. They always want to drag me up front and show me off.” He scowled at the ground. “I hate getting attention like that.”

“Aww, come on,” said Bluestreak with a pleading note to his tone. “I really want to see what you did with that colour. I’ve been dying to know.” He gently bumped Sunstreaker’s shoulder with his. “Besides, you did just fine tonight when you explained your work to the mechs at the festival.”

“I was explaining it to **you** ,” Sunstreaker said, a little more sharply than he intended. He exvented and added, “Everyone else was just eavesdropping.”

With a shrug, Bluestreak said, “You still did a great job, even if you didn’t intend for anyone else to hear.”

Sunstreaker was still mulling over Bluestreak’s words as he keyed open the door of the apartment and let them inside. Sideswipe was sprawled on the couch as usual, but bounced to his pedes when they came in.

Gesturing at Sideswipe, Sunstreaker said, “Bluestreak, this is my brother Sideswipe. Sideswipe, this is Bluestreak.”

“Hey there,” said Sideswipe, extending his arm. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the designation. Sunstreaker’s mentioned you a few times.”

Gripping Sideswipe’s forearm in greeting, Bluestreak asked, “Has he?” He grinned and looked at Sunstreaker. “Sunny’s told me about a few things about you as well.”

Sunstreaker saw Sideswipe’s optics widened slightly at Bluestreak’s use of the nickname. “Hopefully it was just the good stuff,” Sideswipe said with a grin. 

“I can only assume,” Bluestreak said with a laugh.

“Come on,” Sunstreaker said, pulling on Bluestreak’s hand. “My room is this way.” He exchanged looks with Sideswipe as he led the red and silver mech down the hall: Sunstreaker’s expression a warning, and Sideswipe’s expression one of amusement.

In his room, Sunstreaker showed Bluestreak a stack of dry canvases that leaned against the wall. “There’s a reason most of those paintings aren’t being hung anywhere,” he warned. “Some of them aren’t finished, while others aren’t as good as I want them to be. The rest are pieces that just wouldn’t sell anywhere.”

Bluestreak flipped through the paintings, pausing at each one. After a klik he shook his helm wonderingly. “You have an amazing amount of talent,” he said. “I know you specialize in murals, but a lot of your work here is plenty good for a gallery.”

Sunstreaker frowned. “Murals pay pretty well, which is why I specialize in them.” He watched as Bluestreak began looking through the next stack of canvases. “The art market is so fickle, I don’t see the point in trying to get the stuff I just paint for myself into galleries.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’ll hang there for ages and probably not sell. Why bother?” 

“You really should look into it,” Bluestreak said. “I know your name is out there as a mural artist, but if mechs knew how deep your work was –“ Bluestreak’s vocalizer cut out and his engine stalled as he looked down at the canvas he had stopped on.

Concerned, Sunstreaker stepped next to Bluestreak. His own ventilations caught when saw the painting that had caused Bluestreak’s stunned reaction.

On the canvas, Bluestreak’s face was in profile as he looked out over the city, his features drawn in shadows and highlights. His lips curled up slightly at the corner of his mouth, and his optics had an intent look to them.

“This is... amazing,” Bluestreak whispered, his door wings fluttering behind him. He looked up at Sunstreaker, his expression incredulous. “It’s me!”

Sunstreaker nodded and reset his vocalizer before attempting to speak. “It’s not done yet,” he said apologetically. “I’m still trying to find the perfect colour for... for your optics.” Ducking his helm, he added, “I... hope you don’t mind that I painted you.”

His optics widening, Bluestreak said, “Of course I don’t mind! This... Is this from our first date?” When Sunstreaker nodded, he looked back down at the canvas. “You made me look so... striking. I wish I really looked like this.”

Putting his hand on Bluestreak’s shoulder, Sunstreaker said, “You do!” Bluestreak shook his helm slightly, and Sunstreaker pulled to turn Bluestreak to face him. “Trust the artist,” he said, smiling slightly. Tracing a digit down the side of Bluestreak’s helm, he said, “You... You’re gorgeous, Blue.” He looked into Bluestreak’s optics and marvelled again at the richness of colour he saw there. “Every time I look at you I think of how lucky I am,” he added softly.

“I wish I could see what you do,” Bluestreak said, his lips curling up into a shy smile. He placed his hands on Sunstreaker’s chest plates. “But... I’m glad that you can see it, even if I can’t.” 

Before Sunstreaker could reply, Bluestreak leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sunstreaker’s firmly. Like every time that they had kissed, Sunstreaker’s sensor net lit up, tracing lines of heat from his helm all the way to his pedes. He placed a hand behind Bluestreak’s helm and leaned into the kiss, tilting his helm slightly to deepen the contact.

Sliding his hands up Sunstreaker’s chest and the sides of his neck, Bluestreak cupped the Kaonite’s head fins in his hands. He delicately traced the edges of the side vents with his thumbs, and Sunstreaker could not stop the faint whimper that escaped his vocalizer at the feather-light touch. 

After a few kliks, they parted, each of their fans running fast. Bluestreak exvented slowly. “I... should probably go. It’s getting late and I have to be at least semi-conscious to open the shop tomorrow morning.”

Nodding and trying to calm his own ventilations, Sunstreaker said, “I’ll walk you out.”

In the living room, Sideswipe waved from the couch as they walked through. “It was nice meeting you, Bluestreak!”

“Same here,” Bluestreak said. “I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”

They paused in the hallway outside the apartment, and Sunstreaker partly closed the door. “I had a really good time tonight,” he said.

“So did I,” said Bluestreak. “And thank you for showing me your paintings... All of them.” He stepped forward and kissed Sunstreaker, pulling away before they could get lost in it again. “Are we still on for going to the track the cycle after next?”

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it,” replied Sunstreaker, smiling.

“All right. I’ll see you then,” said Bluestreak, and he walked down the hallway towards the lift. He gave Sunstreaker a little wave before he disappeared around the corner.

Sunstreaker steadied himself before walking back into the apartment. He shut the door, then glared at Sideswipe. “I hope you weren’t eavesdropping on us,” he said, sitting in his chair.

Holding up his hands innocently, Sideswipe said, “Of course not! I was watching the game.” He pointed at the entertainment centre. 

After a pause, Sunstreaker said, “Ok.” He exvented, then smiled. “Thanks.”

Sideswipe muted the game, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He grinned at his brother. “So... Sunny, huh?” 

Sunstreaker grunted, then shrugged. “He asked me to call him Blue,” he said. “It only seemed fair.”

“So, do you like him?” 

“Yes,” said Sunstreaker, rolling his optics. He thought that was obvious. 

“Good,” Sideswipe said, leaning back to resume his usual sprawl on the couch. “Because he is smitten with you.”

Startled, Sunstreaker stared at his brother. “What?”

Waving a hand, Sideswipe said, “Maybe you can’t see it because you’re too close to it, but... If you could see what I do, you’d realize that Bluestreak is helm over pedes for you.” His amused grin softened into a gentle smile. “Trust me. That mech is off the market.”


	3. Taking That Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I accidentally another chapter. So, one more to go after this! (Also we finally get to the E rating. ^.^ )

When Bluestreak pointed out that the anniversary of their first date was coming up, Sunstreaker checked his chronometer in surprise. Surely it hadn’t been three orbital cycles already? 

In that time, they had settled into a comfortable routine that suited both of them. Every few cycles they made a date to see each other. Sometimes they went to the track or an art show, or they spent time at one another’s apartments. 

Bluestreak turned out to be a fan of the Iaconian Turbofoxes, and he liked watching the games on the vid with Sideswipe. “I don’t get the premium sports channels at home,” he said. “Since I really only watch rocket ball, it didn’t make sense to spend shanix on it.” For his part, Sideswipe enjoyed having someone else to yell at the vid screen with when Blaster was working. Meanwhile, Sunstreaker would sketch during the game, finding an excited Bluestreak to be a captivating subject.

When they went to Bluestreak’s apartment, they would watch a movie or two from his vid collection. Sunstreaker was initially skeptical of how good a “bad” movie could be, but he found himself being caught up in Bluestreak’s delight at just how bad the effects and dialogue could be. “It’s like they purposefully these movies atrocious just so that we could make fun of them,” Sunstreaker had said after a particularly bad movie called _Nova Prime Versus the Giant Electro-Toads_.

Yeah. It had apparently been three orbital cycles already.

After bringing up the subject of their impending anniversary, Bluestreak leaned on the counter in his shop. “Anyway, I was thinking about doing something terribly romantic for our anniversary. Something like... Relaxing on the couch at my place with some take out, some drinks, and my new copy of _Dead Mechs Walk_.” He smirked and tipped his door wings at Sunstreaker. “I mean, we could also go to a fancy restaurant and see a current movie at the theatre, but why mess with what’s been working for us?”

Sunstreaker agreed: take out and a bad movie sounded like a fantastic evening.

And so Sunstreaker found himself sitting on Bluestreak’s couch with the Praxian nestled against his side. The remains of their take out dinner were scattered on the table in front of the couch, and they each nursed a cube of pleasantly spiced mid-grade.

Sunstreaker’s engine purred quietly. His right arm was curled around Bluestreak’s shoulders, and Bluestreak leaned into him, a hand resting lightly on Sunstreaker’s thigh. 

Three orbital cycles had just flown by. And this wasn’t just a fantastic evening; Sunstreaker thought it was a perfect way to spend an anniversary.

As the credits for the movie rolled, Bluestreak leaned forward and turned off the entertainment unit. “All right, I’m definitely adding that one to my “Hall of Shame” collection,” Bluestreak said, taking both of their empty cubes and setting them on the table. He turned slightly towards Sunstreaker and curled his legs under him, resting his left elbow on the low back of the couch. “Bad effects, horrible dialogue, terrible acting, and plot holes a convoy class could drive though. It hit all of the marks for maximum atrocity!” he laughed. 

Sunstreaker grinned in agreement. “I especially loved the scene where you could see that the actor who played the medic completely forgot his line, and they just continued the scene without it. I’ll bet that the rest of that scene was ad-libbed.”

“That was great!” Bluestreak giggled. “I’m glad you liked it as much as I did.” He tilted his helm, and his smile softened. He slid his hand down Sunstreaker’s thigh to his knee, then back to where it had been resting. “Sunny... I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said quietly. 

At Bluestreak’s caress, Sunstreaker had been focused on not letting his interface panel pop open. But when he heard Bluestreak’s hesitant words, he tensed. Tonight had been so wonderful, but those words... Sunstreaker had only ever heard them spoken just before a mech said they weren’t interested in seeing him anymore. He didn’t trust his vocalizer not to glitch, so he just sat and looked at Bluestreak.

With his familiar smile on his lips, Bluestreak looked straight into Sunstreaker’s optics. “I really like you, Sunny,” Bluestreak said. He lifted the arm he had been resting on the back of the couch and stroked a digit down the side of Sunstreaker’s cheek. 

Blowing out a slow vent, Sunstreaker forced himself to relax. _Calm down._ Bluestreak wasn’t suddenly breaking up with him. _No need to freak out,_ he thought. He tilted his helm into Bluestreak’s hand. “I know you do. I really like you, too. I couldn’t believe it when you told me it’s been three orbital cycles already.”

Chuckling, Bluestreak stroked Sunstreaker’s cheek again. “It did seem to go fast, didn’t it?” He rested his hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder and gently brushed his digits against his neck cords. “I wanted to see what you thought about taking this to...” He stopped and rolled his optics, laughing at himself. “Aah, this sounds so cheesy. But it hasn’t come up yet and... I wanted to ask you about taking this... us! ... to the next level. I’d like to interface with you. No... I **really want** to interface with you.” He caught his lower lip between his dentae and looked at Sunstreaker intently, watching for his reaction.

Sunstreaker’s ventilations stalled as he felt Bluestreak’s hand slide up towards his interface panel. He stiffened and grabbed at Bluestreak’s wrist, certain that his panel would fly open if the other mech’s hand went any higher.

He glanced at Bluestreak’s face in time to see the smile drop from his lips. “I... I’m sorry –“ Bluestreak stammered, his door wings sagging as he tried to pull his hand back.

“No!” Sunstreaker shook his helm, trying to reassure Bluestreak and realizing at the same time that he was failing badly. “No, no. Oh, slag, Blue, it’s not that...” He lifted Bluestreak’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “It’s – “ Sunstreaker took a full vent cycle and started over. “I’m... I would love to interface with you,” he said. “But...”

His door wings rising back to their neutral position, Bluestreak stared at the Kaonite expectantly. “But?” he prompted, twitching a wing.

_Be honest with him._

“I’ve never done this before,” Sunstreaker said. “You’ll... be my first.” He looked down and traced patterns on the back of Bluestreak’s hand with his thumb as he waited for the Praxian’s response.

“Hey.” Sunstreaker looked up at Bluestreak’s quiet voice. His smile was back, and he tilted his helm slightly to the side. “Thank you... First, for telling me.” He blew air from his vents and laughed nervously. “And secondly... Whew! I thought I’d really misjudged things.” He gripped Sunstreaker’s hand in both of his. “So... you... you still have your seals?”

Feeling his face plates heating, Sunstreaker shrugged. “Well, I still have my valve seal,” he said. “But my spike...” he trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain.

“...you unsealed yourself?” Bluestreak guessed. When Sunstreaker nodded, Bluestreak laughed. “I did the same thing. I think every mech does that as soon as they get their adult upgrades,” he said. He wiggled a little closer to Sunstreaker on the couch so that his knees were pressed against the yellow mech’s thigh. “I’m a little surprised, though, to be honest,” he said. His smile was filled with nothing but affection. “Someone as good-looking as you... I figured you’d be fighting off mechs with a stick. I couldn’t believe it when you asked me out. I’d just assumed you were taken.”

Sunstreaker felt his face plates flush even more at Bluestreak’s words. “I thought the same thing about you, until I saw you poking around on Sparkr.” 

Laughing, Bluestreak said, “I am so lucky... Lucky that you weren’t taken, lucky that you looked at my comm pad... And lucky that you were interested in me. Lucky that you took a chance.” He squeezed Sunstreaker’s hand. “I know now that it was hard for you, but I’m so glad you did it.” He ran a hand up Sunstreaker’s arm to his helm, and ran a thumb across his cheek. “I’d still really like to ‘face, but... Maybe not here? I mean, I’d hate for your first time to be in my grungy little apartment,” he said, flashing his dentae in a smile.

Sunstreaker laughed. “You haven’t seen grungy until you’ve seen Sideswipe’s room. Your apartment is fine,” he said, smiling. “And, Blue... For the past few deca-cycles, almost every time you’ve kissed me, or touched me, or – slag, even sometimes when you just look at me – I’ve had to issue a whole string of overrides to keep my interface panel from opening.” He pulled another steadying vent and quietly added, “So long as you’re the one... anywhere will be perfect. Tonight would be perfect.”

With a quiet exvent, Bluestreak shook his helm and whispered, “Oh, Sunny... Thank you.” He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss onto the corner of Sunstreaker’s mouth. Resting his elbow on the back of the couch, Bluestreak sat back and gazed at Sunstreaker with a calculating expression. “Would you like to stay the night? I purposefully closed the shop tomorrow because I knew... or rather, I **hoped** that I might be up late tonight, so we can sleep in as long as we like.” He set his hand back on Sunstreaker’s thigh where it had rested before, and gave it a little squeeze. “And that way we can take our time.” 

“I’d like that,” Sunstreaker said, certain that Bluestreak could hear his spark thrumming in its casing. Then he said, “Um... I should probably let Sides know, so he’s not worried.”

Grinning, Bluestreak said, “Good idea.” He unfolded himself and stood, collecting the leftovers and dishes from the table. “I’ll get this stuff out of the way while you do that.” Before he disappeared into the kitchen he chirped, “Tell him I said hi!”

Sunstreaker fished his comm pad out of his compartments, and tapped a quick message to his brother. _I’m staying at Bluestreak’s tonight. He said to say hello. For a change, I get to tell you not to wait up. See you tomorrow._

Before he could replace it back into his compartments, the pad chirped with a reply. Sunstreaker glanced at the response and smiled. _About time you two got it together! I’m happy for you! Have a good time, Sunny. And tell him I expect him here for the Turbofox/Crusaders game next deca-cycle so I can laugh at how bad Iacon loses._

As he listened to Bluestreak move around in the kitchen, Sunstreaker tried to calm himself. He’d hoped that this moment would eventually come, and now that it was here he felt nervous. In the past, he’d never gone past anything more than kissing, and once a date had gotten too handsy with him in a public park before he told him to stop. That was it. He’d never even opened his interface panel in front of anyone other than a medic. And now...

Bluestreak hopped over the back of the couch and settled into his spot next to Sunstreaker, his pedes curled under him again. He wore a shy smile, but there was an eager glint to his optics. “So? Did Sideswipe extend your curfew?”

Cuffing Bluestreak on the upper arm, Sunstreaker laughed. “Yes, Warden Sides graciously granted me permission to stay overnight. Also, he wanted me to remind you about the game next deca-cycle so he can rub your face in the Turbofoxes’ loss to the Crusaders.”

Miming a shocked expression, Bluestreak made a sharp exclamation. “As if!” He leaned forward, sliding a hand across the plating of Sunstreaker’s abdomen to rest on his opposite hip. Bringing his face close to Sunstreaker’s, he brushed their lips together. “Iacon’s going to ravage Kaon,” he said with a purr and a flutter of his door wings.

Sunstreaker began to laugh, but Bluestreak silenced him with a firm kiss, his glossa dancing across Sunstreaker’s lips until it was granted entrance. Savouring the taste of mid-grade that lingered on Bluestreak’s lips, Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around Bluestreak’s waist and pulled him closer. 

After a klik, the Praxian broke the kiss. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker’s neck. “So... Did you want to stay here, or move to the berth?”

“Um...” Sunstreaker hesitated, then replied, “Whatever you’d like. This is fine.”

The calculating look returned to Bluestreak’s optics, and then he smiled. “All right, then,” he said. “We’ll stay here.” He rose and twisted before settling down on top of Sunstreaker’s lap, straddling his thighs. Now facing Sunstreaker straight on, he took the Kaonite’s helm between his hands. “Since you’ve already done the work for me, I think I’ll take your spike first.”

Sunstreaker’s engine stalled at Bluestreak’s words, and he looked up at the red and silver imploringly. “Please,” he said. “Tell me if I do something wrong, ok?”

Stroking his thumbs across Sunstreaker’s cheeks and lips, Bluestreak said, “Sunny... So long as you’re talking to your partner, and telling them what feels good and what doesn’t, I don’t think there’s a wrong way to ‘face.” He rested the crest of his helm against Sunstreaker’s forehelm. “Just listen to me, and I’ll listen to you. And tell me if something’s not good, or if it’s really good. All right?”

Nodding, Sunstreaker put his hands on Bluestreak’s hips, tracing his digits down a transformation seam he found there. The Praxian sighed contentedly at the touch, and leaned in to kiss Sunstreaker. Bluestreak slid his hands up the sides of his head fins as he had done several times before, eliciting a tiny whimper from the yellow mech. But then his thumbs gently dug into the grill indentations, stroking lightly across the ribbed surfaces.

Sunstreaker knew that his head fins were a little sensitive, and he had been ready for the feel of Bluestreak’s digits. However, the grills themselves were hardly ever touched by anyone but himself. A loud moan escaped his vocalizer into Bluestreak’s mouth as the caress seemed to shoot pleasure straight to his processor. 

The red and silver mech smiled against Sunstreaker’s lips. “I think I found my first ‘feels good’ spot, hmm?” he murmured.

Sunstreaker made a small sound of agreement as he recovered. Looking up at Bluestreak, he whispered, “Can I touch your door wings?” 

“You can touch me wherever you like,” Bluestreak said. He tipped his wings forward so they were in easier reach. “They’re really sensitive on the back hinges, and along where the windows join the metal.”

With a shaking digit, Sunstreaker traced the line that Bluestreak described. The wing quivered under his touch. “A little harder,” Bluestreak said, his vocalizer quavering just slightly. “It tickles when you touch them so lightly. You won’t break me,” he added with a little grin.

Nodding, Sunstreaker pressed his thumb into the join, and was rewarded with an audible intake of air from Bluestreak’s vents. “Yes, like that,” Bluestreak hissed. Then he bucked slightly when Sunstreaker’s other hand did the same down the back hinges of his other wing. “Tricky,” he laughed. 

Sunstreaker heard a click, and Bluestreak grabbed his hand. “Here. Let’s get me ready for you. Give me two digits,” he said, folding Sunstreaker’s fourth and fifth digits against his palm. “Now... gently...” He pushed Sunstreaker’s hand down, and slipped it between his thighs.

 _Oh, Primus._ Sunstreaker realized that Bluestreak’s interface panel was open, and the Praxian was pushing Sunstreaker’s digits into his valve. It was so warm, and slick with lubricant already. He stared up at Bluestreak’s face with wide optics. The red and silver mech’s optics were half closed as he looked back down at Sunstreaker. 

He was so gorgeous. Cobalt light glimmered from his half-shuttered optics, and his lips were slightly parted. Sunstreaker resolutely issued another override command to his interface port, forcing it to stay closed for now. A warning on his HUD informed him that the next override likely wouldn’t work, especially if Bluestreak kept making those little pleased noises. 

“And your thumb... there...” Bluestreak pushed Sunstreaker’s thumb against the top of his valve, where he felt the small hard anterior node. Trying to calm his ventilations, Sunstreaker slid his thumb across it, and Bluestreak’s mouth opened in a quiet moan. “There’s another good spot,” he said softly. “Push your digits in... A bit more... There’s another cluster of nodes inside – Ah!” Bluestreak jerked suddenly, his helm rolling back.

Sunstreaker froze for a moment, but when he saw the blissful smile on Bluestreak’s lips he continued slowly pumping his digits in and out of Bluestreak’s valve. Curling his own lips into a smile, he pressed his mouth against Bluestreak’s neck cords, pulling on one with his lips as he dragged a heavy touch down Bluestreak’s window pane and across its seam with the door’s metal again. 

The reaction was immediate as Bluestreak cried out again, his hands clinging to Sunstreaker’s shoulders. “Again!” he gasped at the ceiling, then suddenly looked down at Sunstreaker with wide optics. “No, wait!” 

“What?” Sunstreaker asked, staring up at Bluestreak. “Did I...”

“This should be about you, not me...” Bluestreak said, his brow furrowing. “I didn’t mean to –“

Relief that he hadn’t somehow hurt Bluestreak washed over him, thankfully taking away a bit of his building charge. Sunstreaker reached his free hand up to pull Bluestreak’s face down to his. “Blue, this is fantastic,” he murmured, his lips against Bluestreak’s. “The fact that a little movement like this...“ Sunstreaker pressed the digits in Bluestreak’s valve against the inner nodes again, causing Bluestreak to buck and gasp. “...can do that? That’s... amazing to me.” He kissed Bluestreak again, and released his hold on the Praxian’s neck. “Besides... you said we had all night.”

Bluestreak nuzzled one of Sunstreaker’s helm fins and whispered, “Why are you so good to me?” He sat up and wiggled his hips. “Fine, then. So where were we?”

“I think you asked for this again,” said Sunstreaker, and he clawed a hand down Bluestreak’s door wing.

Sunstreaker watched the Praxian’s face in delight as his charge climbed higher and higher. Each touch seemed to have an equal reaction. A touch on the front of his door wing made him suck air in through his vents, touching the hinges made his hips jerk, and a flick on his anterior node would cause a moan. Bluestreak’s optics closed as his ventilations became ragged, his helm tipped forward so that his chevron almost rested on the top of Sunstreaker’s helm.

Curious, the Kaonite stretched his neck up and licked the length of Bluestreak’s chevron. 

“Ah! Sunny!” Bluestreak cried, his frame shuddering as he bowed forward over Sunstreaker. His valve clamped down on Sunstreaker’s digits in irregular pulses, and his hands gripped Sunstreaker’s shoulders. “Ah... Slag!”

_So amazingly beautiful._

A warning flashed, and Sunstreaker gasped as he felt his interface panel snap open, his spike pressurizing immediately as soon as the panel was clear. He pulled his digits from Bluestreak’s valve and put both hands on the Praxian’s hips. His vocalizer slightly shaky, Sunstreaker murmured, “I think I found another sensitive part, huh?”

Laughing into Sunstreaker’s shoulder, Bluestreak nodded. He sat up and smiled, loosening his grip on the yellow mech’s shoulders slightly. “You could say that,” he said weakly. He quirked a corner of his mouth up into a smile. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

Sunstreaker began to laugh, and then Bluestreak reached down and wrapped his hand around the base of Sunstreaker’s spike.

Sunstreaker’s laugh turned into a stuttering groan. His spike jerked at the touch, and he tried to pull a long vent of cool air in to chill his systems. It didn’t work, and he released the air with a whine. “Frag, Blue...” 

Bluestreak was gazing down at Sunstreaker’s spike in his hand, admiring its black, white and yellow design. “It’s as attractive as the rest of you,” he said, stroking his hand up its length once. 

Sunstreaker moaned, his hands gripping Bluestreak’s hips hard enough to leave dents. “Blue... Please…” he gasped. He didn’t know what he was begging for, only that he needed **something**.

With a fluid motion, Bluestreak rose on his knees and then, guiding Sunstreaker’s spike with his hand, sank down slowly on it. 

Inch by inch, Sunstreaker’s spike was engulfed in plush heat, wrapping tightly around him. He groaned as Bluestreak’s valve, still quaking with the aftershocks of his overload, gripped and released his length spasmodically.

Looking up at the Praxian with wide optics, Sunstreaker’s mouth worked as he tried to say Bluestreak’s designation. Bluestreak rose up on his knees, then ground back down again. He looked down at Sunstreaker intently. “Good?” he whispered, rubbing his hands down Sunstreaker’s shoulders to his chest and digging into the side of his hood.

Knowing that he would be unable to say anything intelligible, Sunstreaker just nodded. He whimpered as Bluestreak rose again, his sapphire optics locked on Sunstreaker’s. As he began to slide down once more, Bluestreak’s fluttering door wings rose to perfectly frame his helm –

Unable to hold back, Sunstreaker’s engine roared as he gripped Bluestreak’s hips tightly, his hips thrusting up to meet his lover’s, burying his spike once, twice in that slick, quivering valve. As his overload crashed over him and his vision washed out, he saw Bluestreak’s optics flash into a pale azure.

* * *

“...Sunny?”

A warm glow of contentment oozed through Sunstreaker’s frame. He felt... good. Tired. Content. 

“Sunny? C’mon, Sideswipe will kill me if I broke you.”

Onlining his optics, Sunstreaker saw Bluestreak’s face peering into his. The red and silver mech smiled with a touch of relief. “There you are.” He pillowed his helm in his arms and gazed at Sunstreaker. “I was starting to think you’d glitched out.”

Sunstreaker was laying on his back, lengthwise on the couch, with Bluestreak settled on top of him. He realized that Bluestreak must have moved him while he was rebooting. “I’m fine,” he said, resting a hand on Bluestreak’s back. “Was I offline long?”

Bluestreak shrugged, his door wings waving in the air with the motion. “It was about five kliks. Long enough for me to start to wonder.” He narrowed his optics. “That wasn’t your first overload, too, was it?”

“No!” Sunstreaker shook his helm. He’d self-serviced with his spike plenty of times. “But it was definitely the best one I’ve ever had.” He smiled bashfully. “Better than anything I ever gave myself, that’s for sure.”

Lunging forward, Bluestreak pressed his lips against Sunstreaker’s for a long, hard kiss before rolling off to sit on the table in front of the couch. “I’m so glad,” he said, pulling Sunstreak back up to a sitting position. “That was wonderful.” 

“You were wonderful,” Sunstreaker said, putting a digit under Bluestreak’s chin to tip his helm into another quick kiss. He replayed the last few kliks of their encounter in his memory, and then felt his faceplates flush. “I… I guess I didn’t last very long.” 

Throwing his helm back in laughter, Bluestreak grabbed at both of Sunstreaker’s hands. “You did fine. And you lasted a lot longer than I did my first time.” The red and silver mech shook his helm and smiled. “I don’t even think I was completely inside before I overloaded.”

“Really?” When Bluestreak nodded, Sunstreaker chuckled. “At least I was able to overload you before I got myself too worked up.”

“And I’m still not completely convinced you haven’t done that before. Either that, or you’re a quick study,” Bluestreak said, bringing Sunstreaker’s hands up to his lips.

Sunstreaker’s faceplates felt as though they were going to burst into flames. “You’re a great teacher,” he murmured. 

Leaning forward to rest his helm on Sunstreaker’s, Bluestreak’s cobalt optics glowed brightly. “I have so much more to show you,” he whispered. 

A shiver went through Sunstreaker’s frame.

He saw Bluestreak’s optics glance downward, and Sunstreaker noticed that his interface panel had closed while he was offline. “I don’t know about you,” Bluestreak said, lifting his optics back to Sunstreaker’s. “But... That took quite a bit out of me, and it’s been a long day. Maybe... we can plan for round two in the morning?” 

“Yeah.” Sunstreaker’s HUD had been pinging a low-priority energy warning at him since he’d come back online. He was surprised at how much energy just one overload had taken out of him. After hearing Sideswipe’s stories of conquest back when he was playing the field, Sunstreaker figured that it was common to go round after round. Not for the first time, he began to suspect that maybe Sideswipe had exaggerated his tales slightly. “That might be a good idea.” 

“But first, I’ll get us both a cloth to clean up a bit,” Bluestreak said, standing up. “I’ve woken up stuck to the berth cover before.” He laughed at Sunstreaker’s horrified expression.

A half a groon later found the two mechs cleaned up and wrapped together on Bluestreak’s berth, Sunstreaker on his back and Bluestreak curled up against his side.

Tracing idle patterns on Sunstreaker’s chest plates with a digit, Bluestreak said sleepily, “Happy anniversary, Sunny.”

Sunstreaker turned his helm and kissed Bluestreak’s helm at the base of his chevron. “You too, Blue.”


	4. Lesson Two

_Sideswipe leaned forward and tapped a digit to Sunstreaker’s nasal ridge._

_Sunstreaker twitched his helm away. “Knock it off, Sides.”_

_His brother grinned and did it again. Tap._

_“I said quit it,” Sunstreaker whined. He wanted to push Sideswipe away from him, but he felt too relaxed to bother._

_Sideswipe smirked as if witnessing a great prank. Sunstreaker watched, unable to move, as Sideswipe’s hand rose once more and... “Bomp,” Sideswipe said as his digit landed on Sunstreaker’s nose._

Bomp?

Sunstreaker onlined his optics blearily. The only thing his visual receptors returned was the colour grey, so he cycled his optics again, trying to clear them.

Still grey. Then the grey moved slightly, and something bumped him lightly on his nasal ridge.

A door wing.

Bluestreak.

Sunstreaker’s processor suddenly filled in the details of the previous evening’s activities. Primus, he’d actually interfaced. With Bluestreak. 

And it had been **amazing**.

He lifted his helm slightly off his pillow, and saw that Bluestreak had turned during the night. When Sunstreaker had fallen into recharge, Bluestreak had been curled against his side facing him. At some point during the night, Bluestreak had turned over and was now facing away from him. Sunstreaker could hear Bluestreak’s systems idling quietly as the mech recharged.

Bluestreak’s door wing gently tapped him on the nasal ridge again as it waved slightly above him.

Tilting his helm upwards slightly, Sunstreaker exvented slowly, blowing heated air over the surface of the door wing. The wing wavered, then drifted down to bump his nose once more.

With a grin more suited to his brother, Sunstreaker lifted a hand and lightly touched the door wing, tracing the line between the window and the metal where – 

The door wing twitched violently and thwapped him hard across the face.

“Ow!” Sunstreaker exclaimed. 

Oh. Right. The door wings were ticklish, especially to a light touch.

Then the door wing shifted as Bluestreak rolled over to face Sunstreaker. “Wuzzit?” he muttered sleepily, his optics onlining. They focused on Sunstreaker, who was holding a hand up to his nose where the door wing had slapped him. Bluestreak’s optics widened in alarm.

“Oh, Sunny!” Suddenly fully awake, Bluestreak pushed himself up on an arm. “Did I hit you with one of my wings? I’m so sorry…” He pulled Sunstreaker’s hand away from his face and examined the area for damage. 

Sunstreaker submitted to Bluestreak’s examination, but said, “I’m all right. It just surprised me.” After Bluestreak finished his inspection with a kiss to his nasal ridge, Sunstreaker added, “Besides, it was my fault. I should have remembered when you said they were a little ticklish.”

Propping his helm up on his hand, Bluestreak said, “So, other than being beaten with a door wing, did you recharge well?”

“Yeah. I did.” Sunstreaker wrapped an arm around Bluestreak’s waist and pulled him closer for a proper kiss. 

When they parted, a shadow crossed Bluestreak’s face. “I’m just glad you’re still here,” he murmured, glancing down as he rubbed his palm over Sunstreaker’s chest.

Frowning, Sunstreaker asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Indigo optics flashed up to Sunstreaker’s again, and Bluestreak shrugged. The shadow lifted from his expression and he smiled. “Forget I said anything. I’m just glad.” His hand skated down Sunstreaker’s chest plate, over his abdomen, and brushed against his interface panel. “But if I recall, we had unfinished business last night.” Then his hand stopped moving, and the smile faded slightly. “If you still want to.”

Images from the previous evening were still filtering through his memory. Just remembering the look of Bluestreak’s gorgeous face in the throes of his overload made Sunstreaker’s fans click on. “Slag, yes. I am definitely still interested,” said Sunstreaker. At Bluestreak’s hesitant touch, his interface protocols onlined. He shifted his hips, trying to get Bluestreak’s digits to brush against his panel again.

His smile lighting up his face again, Bluestreak leaned in to kiss Sunstreaker, pulling at his lips. He nibbled down the yellow mech’s jaw and mouthed a cable on his neck. Sunstreaker shivered in Bluestreak’s arms.

“Primus, Blue,” Sunstreaker gasped, clinging to Bluestreak’s frame. “I think you found another good spot.” 

Bluestreak chuckled, and dragged his dentae across Sunstreaker’s neck to the other side, eliciting a loud groan. “I’m making a note of every single one of these spots,” he said, and stroked the tip of a digit across the grills of Sunstreaker’s head fins.

With a cry, Sunstreaker felt a jolt of charge rippled through his frame. As his processor recovered from the sudden surge, Bluestreak kissed his way back down Sunstreaker’s neck, across his chest, and down the transformation seams of his abdomen. It felt as though every place that Bluestreak’s lips touched was singing, fanning the fire that building behind Sunstreaker’s array.

Bluestreak sank lower, glossa and lips sliding over his plating. Sunstreaker’s panel sprang open at Bluestreak’s gentle touch. “There you are,” Bluestreak whispered, and Suntreaker felt hot air from the Praxian’s vents waft over his array. 

His spike, again, had pressurized as soon as the panel was clear, but Bluestreak ignored it. It ached, but... _Slag..._ Sunstreaker felt Bluestreak’s glossa skim around the rim of his valve, then flick at his anterior node. He offlined his optics with a quiet whimper, and lifted his knees to brace his pedes flat on the berth’s surface.

Bluestreak’s glossa slid into the folds of his valve, where only a single curious digit had ventured before. Wary of causing himself pain by inadvertently breaching his inner seal, Sunstreaker’s explorations had been limited to just the opening of his valve. He had played with his anterior node before, but had always ended by pulling on his spike to get his overload. This... This was so different than his own clumsy attempts. 

Lips pulled at the edges of his valve. Dentae nipped delicately at his folds, followed by soothing licks. Sunstreaker’s thighs trembled. Weaving from one side to the other, Bluestreak painted his way back to the little node at the top of Sunstreaker’s valve, and sucked it between his lips.

“Blue!” Sunstreaker cried out as a sudden crackle of charge washed over him. He arched his back, trying to both press his valve into Bluestreak’s mouth and pull it away at the same time. Every sensor node in his frame lit up, and every cable tensed as the charge zipped through him.

He slowly became aware that Bluestreak’s glossa had stopped moving, and had disappeared from his valve. Sunstreaker raised his helm, and saw Bluestreak peering at him around his pressurized spike. When Bluestreak saw he had Sunstreaker’s attention, he deliberately drew his glossa from the base of his spike to the very tip.

 _Frag, he’s trying to kill me_ , Sunstreaker thought dazedly, gazing at the delightfully sensuous look on Bluestreak’s face. He saw the Praxian smile, his cerulean optics locked on Sunstreaker’s, and then deliberately engulf his spike in his mouth.

Sunstreaker’s helm fell back onto the berth with a thunk. Bluestreak’s mouth was hot and wet, like his valve had been, but it suckled and undulated and his glossa twirled around the length of his shaft and –

Thrusting his hips upwards blindly, Sunstreaker gripped the berth covering with both hands. An inarticulate keen rose from his vocalizer as Bluestreak pulled his spike out of his mouth slowly, licked around the very tip, and then swallowed its length again. _Yup. He’s going for death by overload. Don’t avenge me, Sides, it was totally worth it_ , Sunstreaker thought deliriously as he writhed beneath Bluestreak’s attention.

Bluestreak pulled his spike out of his mouth with an audible pop. Sunstreaker whined quietly, but then gasped as he felt a digit intrude into his dripping valve. It skimmed around the outside as Bluestreak’s glossa had done, then dipped inside. 

“You’re so pretty, Sunny,” Bluestreak whispered. He pushed his digit in deeper, then added a second. Sunstreaker’s vents sucked in air desperately, his fans running at their highest speed. “Every inch of you is a work of art.”

Bluestreak’s words rang in Sunstreaker’s audials, and his engine coughed as a third digit slowly slid in alongside the first two. “Blue…” Sunstreaker moaned. His valve felt stretched, filled in a way he hadn’t felt before. Bluestreaker slid his digits out of the valve, then gently pushed them back in. Another gentle stretch. Out. In. Stretch.

Sunstreaker’s moan dissolved into static.

The digits withdrew, leaving Sunstreaker’s valve feeling momentarily bereft. Bluestreak shifted, sliding up over his frame. The Praxian kissed his way back up his chest and neck, then pressed his lips against Sunstreaker’s. Glossa met glossa as the yellow mech eagerly opened his mouth for his lover. Bluestreak tasted tangy, and Sunstreaker realized that it was his own lubricant on the Praxian’s lips. He moaned and pawed at Bluestreak’s sides, seeking to pull him down more firmly on top of him.

Sunstreaker felt the length of Bluestreak’s spike slide against the outer folds of his valve.

Bluestreak looked into Sunstreaker’s optics. “Ready?” he asked quietly. Sunstreaker nodded, and felt Bluestreak’s spike begin to slide into his valve.

 _Frag._ Sunstreaker’s engine roared as he gripped Bluestreak’s back. Bluestreak pulled back slightly, then pushed in again another inch, gently. Where Bluestreak’s digits had made Sunstreaker’s valve feel stretched, his spike made him feel incredibly full. 

Bluestreak balanced himself on his elbows, looking down at Sunstreaker intently. He pushed forward again, gently, and Sunstreaker felt pressure build inside of him. Bluestreak thumbed the edges of the Kaonite’s head fins, stroking them and sending shivers of pleasure through his frame. Bluestreak’s ventilations caught as he pushed forward again, and Sunstreaker felt the pressure build once more until it broke with a sudden sharpness. He hissed at the intensity of the sensation, clinging to Bluestreak’s frame – and then cried out as Bluestreak dragged his thumbs roughly across the grills of his head fins. 

He arched in Bluestreak’s arms, conscious only of the unresolved charge crackling across his frame, the fullness he felt in his valve, and the scent of Bluestreak. Slowly his processor recovered, and he looked up at Bluestreak again.

The red and silver mech was peppering his face, his helm, his fins, his throat with kisses. His hands stroked the sides of Sunstreaker’s helm, and he made quiet little shushing sounds. Sunstreaker realized that Bluestreak was still, his lower frame locked into the position it had been in when Sunstreaker’s seal had been broken. Smoothing his thumbs across Sunstreaker’s cheeks, Bluestreak peered at him. 

“Tell me when... when you’re ok,” Bluestreak said, his voice uncharacteristically low and deep. His ventilations were harsh and ragged as he visibly worked to calm himself, his engine growling with restraint.

Sunstreaker could feel a slight burn deep inside his valve, but it also felt right. Filled. Whole. Meeting Bluestreak’s sapphire gaze, Sunstreaker nodded. “It’s good, Blue.” He brushed his hands across the Praxian’s back and down his sides. “I’m fine.”

Releasing a vent of heated air, Bluestreak smiled and kissed him again. Then he began to move: sliding back, then forward again slowly, his hips trembling with the effort of his control.

As Bluestreak pulled out, the ridges on his spike rubbed against a spot inside Sunstreaker’s valve that shot shudders of delight through him. Thrusting in, his spike pressed and rubbed against Sunstreaker’s anterior node, sending jolts of fire through his sensor net. After a klik, Bluestreak’s strokes became long and smooth, firmly seating himself fully with each thrust. Sunstreaker’s entire frame shivered with each movement of the mech atop him.

The Praxian’s helm dipped to Sunstreaker’s helm as he thrust forward, his lips brushing against it lightly. “Sunny,” Bluestreak whispered into his audial. “I’ve thought about this for so long. Before you even asked me out, I wanted you.” His ventilations were becoming uneven again as his thrusts picked up speed. “I’m the luckiest mech on Cybertron.”

Sunstreaker fought to regain some semblance of coherence so that he could reply, but he could only spit static from his vocalizer. He looked up at Bluestreak, taking in the face that had graced his dreams for vorn. Unable to speak, he lifted his helm and pressed his lips against Bluestreak’s, pulling on those luscious lips with his own.

After a moment, Bluestreak broke the kiss. “Sunny,” he moaned, lowering his helm and plunging his spike into Sunstreaker unevenly, his fans stuttering. 

Then Bluestreak raised his helm again, his optics shining a bright azure and his door wings fluttering behind him as he surged forward again. Looking down at Sunstreaker, he bit his lower lip and groaned.

Sunstreaker felt himself come undone.

He shouted as his overload crashed over him, his valve spasming on Bluestreak’s spike. He heard Bluestreak’s engine roar and felt the hot spurt of fluid fill his valve. The waves of pleasure swept over his frame from his pedes to his helm and back again, and all he could do was cling to Bluestreak to ride out the storm.

Slowly, he became aware of a weight on his frame. Lips were pressed into his neck. Hands gripped his helm. A spike twitched in his valve. A voice murmured his designation over and over.

Sunstreaker onlined his optics and smoothed his hands down Bluestreak’s back. Bluestreak lifted his helm and looked at him with dark blue optics. A delighted smile spread over the red and silver mech’s face, and he leaned down to kiss Sunstreaker before shifting his weight off of him and to the side. He felt Bluestreak’s spike slide out of his valve wetly.

“Wow,” Bluestreak said quietly. He nuzzled Sunstreaker’s cheek. “Are you ok?” Bluestreak’s asked hesitantly, his smile fading slightly. “I… I kinda lost it there at the end. I’d meant to be a bit more gentle with you.”

Returning the caress, Sunstreaker said, “I’m fine. I’m better than fine.” He kissed Bluestreak’s nose, then smiled at his lover. “Last night you said you have a lot more to teach me. If every lesson is going to be like that, you’ll have the most attentive student ever.”

Bluestreak laughed and hugged Sunstreaker close. 

They lay like that for almost half a groon, running their hands over each other’s frames and talking quietly. When Sunstreaker shifted to pull Bluestreak into a deep kiss, he felt the dampness that had collected under his aft, and suddenly became aware of the sticky mix of lubricant and transfluid that decorated his thighs. “Uh,” he said, looking down at his frame.

Following his gaze, Bluestreak said, “Yeah, you’re probably going to want to hit the washrack before that dries.” After giving Sunstreaker another lingering kiss, he reluctantly pushed himself up to sitting and pointed at a door. “There’s only room for one of us, so I’ll take a turn after you.”

In the washrack, Sunstreaker allowed the hot solvent to sluice away the drying fluids that had accumulated on his frame and inside his valve. His valve felt a little tender… Used, maybe, but not unpleasantly sore. 

He also saw the paint transfers that now decorated his plating on his chest, legs, arms and hips. He washed off what he could, but the rest would need to wait until he could use his touch-up kit at home… Which meant that he’d have to drive home looking like this.

And he suddenly realized he didn’t especially care. It seemed foreign to him, not caring that his finish was marred in such obvious places, but he knew he could clean it up easily once he got home. That, and the fact that the red and silver colours marring his paint job were Bluestreak’s… He wanted to shout that from the rooftops.

He dried himself off and walked into the living room. Bluestreak sat on the couch reading his comm pad, and looked up at him when he came in. “So, uh, your brother is looking for you,” he said with a concerned tone.

Frowning, Sunstreaker grabbed his comm pad, which he’d left on the table the previous evening. He saw about half a dozen missed messages from Sideswipe. “I **told** him I was spending the night,” he grumbled. Then he saw that they were all from the past groon or so. 

_Morning, Sunshine! Give me a ping back when you’re up._

_Hey Sunny, page me when you get this._

_Holy Primus, are you two still fragging? There’s no way. Give me a ring when you get up._

_Helloooo? Are you there? Did you forget to charge your pad?_

_Come on, Sunny. Pull yourself away from your cute little Praxian for a klik and answer me._

_I tried comming you, but you’ve got yourself set as Do Not Disturb. Starting to get worried. Give me a call!_

_That’s it. I’m messaging Bluestreak. If it turns out he’s a serial killer and you’re stuffed in a garbage chute, I’m going to be really mad._

Sunstreaker looked up at Bluestreak, an indignant expression on his face. “He said he was going to message you because I wasn’t picking up,” he said.

Bluestreak waved his pad. “Yup, that’s how I know he tried messaging you first.” He read from his comm pad. “He said, ‘If you’re done blowing my brother’s breakers, can you please have him comm me right away?’” Bluestreak looked back up. “Maybe there’s something wrong?”

Shrugging, Sunstreaker fell onto the couch next to Bluestreak. “I’ll see what he wants.”

Giving Sunstreaker a peck on the cheek, Bluestreak stood. “All right. I’ll go see if I can find anything more inspiring than leftovers for fuel... I don’t think I have a lot of other options.” he said with an apologetic tilt to his door wings.

“Leftovers are fine,” Sunstreaker said with a small smile, and watched as Bluestreak vanished into the kitchen. 

With an exvent, he opened a comm line to his brother. ::Sides, it’s me. What do you want?::

::Sunny! Finally! Did you get my messages?::

::Yeah, all of seven them, and the one you sent to Bluestreak, too.:: 

::Is everything ok? Sorry about blowing up your pad. I was starting to get a little worried.::

Sunstreaker exvented again and closed his optics, trying not to let irritation cloud his tone. ::I’m a big mech, Sides… But yeah, everything’s fine. I’m good. I told you I was spending the night here.:: 

::I know you did. It’s just… Did you want to come back home, or are you really ok? I just wanted to give you an out… You know, just in case.::

Sunstreaker’s optics flew open. Of course. After one particularly disastrous hook up, Sideswipe had started asking Sunstreaker to message him in the morning (or sometimes later in the evening, depending on the vibe he got from the other mech) so he could escape gracefully. Sunstreaker’s spark swelled suddenly; Sideswipe had just been looking out for him. He had probably had been genuinely worried when he couldn’t get in touch with his brother.

::I’m going to stay here a while longer. I’m fine. I’m really sorry I worried you. Both of our comm pads were in the other room all night. I’m ok. I’m... I’m really happy, Sides.:: Sunstreaker watched as Bluestreak emerged from the kitchen with two cubes of energon. ::And thanks for watching out for me. I appreciate it.::

::You’re the only brother I’ve got, you big softie. I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll see you whenever you get home.:: 

As Sunstreaker closed the comm line, Bluestreak sat on the couch next to him and handed him a cube. “Is everything ok with Sideswipe?”

Sunstreaker nodded. “Yeah. He was just… Making sure I was ok.” He smiled at the red and silver mech next to him. “I told him I couldn’t be better.”

“Aww. Thanks, Sunny.” Bluestreak smiled shyly and lifted his cube to his lips. When he noticed Sunstreaker’s curious glance at the cube in his hands, Bluestreak’s door wings tipped downwards. “So... Um... I must have been distracted last night when I was putting away the leftovers, because I apparently threw them away instead of putting them in the cooler.” 

Sunstreaker couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. “Distracted, huh?” He lunged forward and planted a quick kiss on Bluestreak’s lips. “I wonder why.”

Bluestreak grinned. “It’s a mystery!” He nibbled his bottom lip for a moment. “Maybe we could... go out someplace?”

Slinging an arm around Bluestreak’s shoulders and pulling him in close, Sunstreaker smiled. “So long as you’re along... That’s fine with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *covers face* Ok, so there's ONE MORE CHAPTER coming. But that's it! Promise! 
> 
> The last bit just seemed to work better as its own thing, since it wraps up some of the threads from this story.


	5. The Perfect Colour

Sunstreaker fluffed his plating and then let it resettle. He looked down at his frame and brushed at his thigh; was that a smudge? No, it was just a trick of the light. He straightened up and exvented.

He stilled when he felt Bluestreak’s hand on his arm.

Bluestreak looked at him with a calm smile. His cobalt optics shone as he leaned in and murmured into Sunstreaker’s audial. “You look absolutely perfect. Stop fussing.”

Consciously relaxing the taut cables in his frame, Sunstreaker scowled. “I can’t believe I let you and Sides talk me into this.”

Turning towards him, Bluestreak slid an arm around Sunstreaker’s waist. “This is huge, Sunny. As soon as you told me where the mural was, I knew this would be a big deal for you professionally. I know that you can do this.” His optics remained fixed on Sunstreaker’s, holding his gaze. “But if you’re really that uncomfortable, we can leave right now.”

Sunstreaker looked at the Praxian, taking in the calm confidence that the mech radiated as he spoke. Bluestreak believed he could do this. Bluestreak believed in him. 

And Sunstreaker trusted Bluestreak. 

“I’ll stay.” Sunstreaker pulled another long vent. He let the corner of his lip tip upwards into a small smile. “Just don’t go too far away.”

Bluestreak gave Sunstreaker’s waist a little squeeze. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be right here.”

“Sir? Sunstreaker?” A small green mech holding a clipboard hovered nearby. “They’re getting ready to start. Could you follow me?”

“Knock ‘em dead, Sunny,” Bluestreak whispered into Sunstreaker’s audial before letting his arm drop and stepping away.

Sunstreaker followed the green mech to a low platform at one end of the room, where he was told to wait. Looking out over the room, Sunstreaker shuddered when he realized how many people were actually here: two, maybe three hundred? And so many cameras. It looked like every news station in Iacon was in attendance, along with dozens of famous mechs that Sunstreaker only recognized from news clips. And they were all going to be looking at **him** in a few kliks. 

And he was going to have to **talk**.

Sunstreaker felt sick.

Looking over the crowd, Sunstreaker found Bluestreak. The red and silver mech caught his glance and gave him a little wave and a smile. Sunstreaker took another deep vent and tried not to focus on how many mechs were here, or how many would be watching on the vids, or the roiling in his tanks.

Instead, he turned his gaze upwards and looked out over the crowd. One wall of the huge, high-ceilinged area was filled completely with windows, looking out over the staging area for Iacon’s spaceport. The other three walls were mostly covered in red cloth, hiding the mural that Sunstreaker had spent several orbital cycles painting. On the other end of the room, a gap in the drapery had been opened to allow mechs to enter through the security gate. Sunstreaker caught sight of Sideswipe checking the credentials of a mech before waving him through.

When Sunstreaker found out he would only be able to get one guest pass to the unveiling, he almost dropped the whole thing there. How was he supposed to choose between taking Sideswipe and Bluestreak? But then Sideswipe had pulled some favours at work to get on the security detail for the unveiling, since Senators Sherma and Decimus would both be in attendance. “Now you don’t have to choose between us, and you can’t use that as an excuse not to go,” Sideswipe had said, flashing a grin at Bluestreak.

Sunstreaker knew that they were colluding somehow... He just couldn’t figure out how.

A spatter of applause drew his attention back to the stage, where the spaceport’s director had taken the podium. “Thank you, everyone, for coming today, to the opening of the new Iacon Spaceport Passenger Terminal,” he said, and waited out another round of applause. “This new, upgraded facility has been in the works for many vorn, and will allow us to increase our passenger capacity by 300%, cementing our role as...”

 _Blah, blah, blah._ Sunstreaker knew that the back-pattting between all of the politicians and directors would go on for a while. He looked around the room again, picturing what was under the concealing drapes.

When he’d been contacted about the project, Sunstreaker was originally going to say no. He felt that it was too big of a project for him; the timelines that the project managers set out were ridiculous, the project itself would have far too much attention for his liking, and it was such a big project he was worried he would lose interest after a while and not do his best work. Why would he want to sign on for that?

But then he’d mentioned it to Sideswipe, and his brother convinced him to submit a proposal. “If you get the contract, it’ll basically be permission to smith shanix,” Sideswipe had said. So Sunstreaker had sketched out a few designs and submitted them, along with a proposed price that seemed completely and ridiculously high to him. He knew it was a bit of self-sabotage, submitting a cost that was far above what he normally charged, but he didn’t think he was right for the job anyway.

So Sunstreaker had been shocked when he’d gotten the contract. They loved his proposed design, and no one even blinked an optic at how much he had asked for in compensation. Sunstreaker signed the contract, and started ordering supplies he needed, including a custom colour from Bluestreak. 

He smiled. That had been before he’d asked Bluestreak out. Slag, it seemed like it was so long ago now.

Sunstreaker looked into the crowd again, and Bluestreak was looking right at him. He gave Bluestreak a wan smile, then glanced at the podium where Senator Sherma was now speaking. The Senator was going on about the benefit the terminal would have to the local economy. Sunstreaker tuned out again. 

Actually doing the mural had been a chore. While the structural construction had been completed when he started painting, Sunstreaker had to work around the mechs who were installing the wiring, lighting, security systems, seating, monitors, check-in desks... It seemed like every morning that he showed up to paint, they were dragging in some other big piece of hardware that Sunstreaker had to work around. Ideally, all of that would have been done before he started painting, but the spaceport authority wanted the mural done in time for the grand opening.

For the last orbital cycle or so, Sunstreaker felt like he lived here. He worked long days, sometimes into the night, trying to get the work completed in time. He missed spending time with Bluestreak and Sideswipe. He missed the bad movie nights, the long idle walks he and Bluestreak liked to take, hanging out and watching rocket ball with them both... He hadn’t had time for any of that lately.

After this event, he intended to take some time off to just relax. He was going to paint just for himself. He wanted Sideswipe to make him some of the rust copper fluff squares he liked. He was going to spend time at Bluestreak’s to watch vids. Maybe he’d even help Bluestreak out at his shop, just to spend more time with him. He could certainly afford a bit of time off... When the shanix landed in his account, he knew Sideswipe’s optics were going to short out when he saw how much it actually was. 

Senator Decimus was speaking now, talking about the construction of the terminal, and... “As you may have surmised by the wall coverings, we have one more surprise for you. We commissioned a well-respected artist for a mural to depict the Iacon Spaceport’s role in the city, and on Cybertron.” The Senator turned and gestured towards Sunstreaker, and he felt the green mech give him a nudge up onto the stage. “We would all like to thank Sunstreaker for his contribution to this project.” The Senator clapped his hands a few times, sparking another smattering of applause in the room.

Sunstreaker took the few steps onto the stage and behind the podium, and waited awkwardly while the applause petered out. He stared at the bank of vid cameras pointed at him. His tanks lurched again. _Why, why did I let them talk me into this?_ he thought miserably.

Then he fixed his optics on Bluestreak, who was smiling broadly. His cerulean optics shone, and he gave Sunstreaker a little thumbs-up.

He could do this.

“Hello,” he said quietly, testing his vocalizer for static. When there was none, he raised his volume and pulled out his comm pad. Bluestreak had suggested he just write down his speech, and then he would have something to do with hands **and** not worry about stumbling over his words.

Bluestreak was a slagging genius.

He looked down at his comm pad and carefully read the words. “I want to thank the spaceport authority for giving me the opportunity to present this artwork to the city.” He waited while another ripple of applause went through the crowd. _Sheesh, these mechs will applaud anything,_ he thought. “I also want to thank two mechs for their encouragement and patience while I completed this work. Sideswipe... Bluestreak... Thank you both so much. I could never have done this without you.” He stepped back as the crowd applauded again, his optics going straight for Bluestreak. 

Bluestreak was smiling from audial to audial, and was clapping louder than anyone else in the huge room. At the security gate, he saw Sideswipe clapping as well. Then Sideswipe glanced around furtively before stepping back to his post.

“Sunstreaker... If you would do the honours?” Senator Decimus gestured towards an elaborate cord hanging from the ceiling near the wall. Sunstreaker took a hold of the cord, and then paused as the reporters surged forward, taking image capture after image capture.

_Ughgh._

He stood there for what felt like several kliks, posing with the director of the spaceport, the two Senators, and then the full group of dignitaries. It went on and on, and Sunstreaker had to work harder and harder to not just throw the cord to the ground.

 _Just another klik more,_ he thought.

Finally, they stepped back, and the green mech nodded at him. Sunstreaker pulled on the cord, and the drapes around the room fell to the floor, revealing the mural.

The applause rose again, but this time it was far more enthusiastic. The crowd turned to take in the whole mural, stretching around the room from one side to the other.

On the far side of the room, next to one edge of the windows, was an elaborate painting of Iacon City. The spires stretched up to the ceiling, while mechs went about their business near the ground or buzzing in the air among the towers. As the mural marched around to the long wall, there were crowd scenes of life in Iacon: mechs at cafes, doing business, visiting key attractions around the city, and finally entering the spaceport carrying luggage. Mechs boarded shuttles and ships, and the ships took off. On the wall behind the stage, one ship flared into warp space near Luna One, its warp gate gleaming against the blackness of space.

Sunstreaker looked around the terminal. This had been so much work. And... slag, he had done a fantastic job. Looking at the mural with fresh optics, he was glad he’d let Sideswipe talk him into doing it.

The event was over, and reporters were streaming up to the stage, eager to ask their questions. Fortunately, all of them wanted to speak to the Senators, so Sunstreaker slipped away and worked his way over to where Bluestreak was waiting.

The red and silver mech grabbed him in a quick hug. “You did great! I told you it wouldn’t be a big deal,” Bluestreak said.

Sunstreaker fluffed his plating again, trying to relax some of the tension in his frame. “It sure felt like a big deal. All those cameras and reporters... Ugh.” He shook his helm, and then smiled at Bluestreak. “But I’m glad it’s over. Come on, I want to show you something.”

“Is it the custom colour?” Bluestreak asked, pointing at the wall depicting the ship flying into the warp gate. “I can see you used it for the background on that part. Clever! It’ll change colour based on the time of day or the intensity of the daylight streaming in.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sunstreaker said. “That, too.” He looked up at that part of the mural, then back to Bluestreak. The Praxian was still looking up at the mural. Frag, he was gorgeous. “I knew that just having a flat black would make that part of the wall dull, so I wanted some way to make it more visually interesting.” He put an arm around Bluestreak’s waist and gave it a little squeeze. “Maybe some time you’ll finally tell me what you used for the opalescence.”

“Sorry, trade secrets,” Bluestreak said, looking back to Sunstreaker and grinning.

“Hmph,” Sunstreaker grunted, but he still had a smile on his lips. “But that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

Sunstreaker led a curious Bluestreak over to the part of the wall showing mechs going about the business of living. He stopped near the section showing mechs walking into the Iacon Turbofoxes’ stadium. He pointed. “There, see the large green mech in the foreground? Now look just to the left.”

Bluestreak’s door wings tipped upwards sharply. “It’s Sideswipe! And Blaster!” He laughed. “Did you show this to him yet?”

Sunstreaker looked back to the security gate; Sideswipe was still working, monitoring the crowd. “Not yet. Once the crowd thins out and he gets a few kliks to look around I’ll point it out to him,” he said. “But over here...” He pulled Bluestreak further down the room.

The mural depicted mechs sitting at some tables outside of a café. Sunstreaker waited while Bluestreak scanned the scene.

“It’s... It’s us!” Bluestreak said faintly. He took a step towards the wall, and his door wings fluttered. He looked at Sunstreaker. “Its – I look like I did in that other painting you did of me.”

Giving Bluestreak a quick kiss on the lips, he said, “Of course. Because that’s what you look like, Blue.”

Bluestreak looked back up at the mural. In the painting, Bluestreak sat across from Sunstreaker at a table. A large drink with two straws sat between them on the table, but the mechs were ignoring it. Instead, they looked intently at each other, seemingly deeply engaged in conversation.

Sunstreaker stood behind Bluestreak as he looked up at the mural, holding him against his frame. He bent his helm to murmur into Bluestreak’s audial. “And I think I finally found the perfect colour for your optics.”

“Oh?” Bluestreak looked closer. “It looks like a standard blue to me,” he said with a laugh.

Letting go of Bluestreak, Sunstreaker said, “Walk around and look from different angles.”

With a curious tilt to his door wings, Bluestreak took a few steps one way, then reversed and walked the other direction. His door wings gradually climbed higher and higher. “They change colour!” He looked back to Sunstreaker and frowned slightly. “I don’t remember selling you any blue paint that did that.”

“Well... That’s because you didn’t.” Sunstreaker pulled Bluestreak back. “I had to order the colour from another paint shop so it would be a surprise,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

Bluestreak threw back his helm and laughed. “I **am** surprised! And no apology is necessary,” he said. He threw his arms around Sunstreaker’s neck and pulled him close. His sapphire optics gleamed. “It’s just perfect,” he said, and pressed his lips to Sunstreaker’s.

Four orbital cycles ago, Sunstreaker wouldn’t have dreamed letting anyone kiss him that enthusiastically in such a public place, especially surrounded by media cameras. But now, he didn’t especially care. 

Grabbing Bluestreak around the waist and shoulders, he tipped him backwards on his pedes, ignored the mech’s startled squeal, and returned the kiss just as fervently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this story! Hoped you enjoyed this "short story" that got way, way out of hand. :D

**Author's Note:**

> **References**
> 
>  
> 
> Art in the Dark: a play on [Nuit Blanche](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuit_Blanche), an outdoor, after-dark art festival held in cities around the world. Very fun!
> 
> Bluestreak also has a ton of really bad horror/monster movies, all of which have titles based on RL really bad horror/monster movies.  
> * The Maniac Mechs of Montoro = The Wild Women of Wongo  
> * Nova Prime Versus the Giant Electro-Toads = Hercules Versus the Moon Men  
> * Dead Mechs Walk = Dead Men Walk


End file.
